


Mice On Venus

by puddingshirt



Series: Learning to Cope [9]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen, Minecraft, Non-Sexual Age Play, Temper Tantrums
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 01:19:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17254931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddingshirt/pseuds/puddingshirt
Summary: Gavin throws a fit because he doesn't get to play Minecraft.





	Mice On Venus

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from the minecraft soundtrack. shoutout to hanginwithlilj for helping me out with this

Honestly, with the week Gavin’s been having, Geoff should have seen this meltdown coming.

 

Gavin’s been in and out of the office all week--Slow Mo filming, meetings, this offer, that offer, filming with Live Action, shoots for merch, on and on and on, running on full cylinders the whole time. Every time he comes back into the office, he grips at the stuffed bird on his desk for a few minutes and then jumps back into the action, smiling as if he has as much energy as ever.

 

Geoff sees every sign. Every big, neon, flashing sign. Gavin’s quicker to shut down when someone teases him, quicker to snap, faster on the draw to piss off someone else and bring them down to his level. It builds, and it builds, and it builds, and Geoff kicks himself for not stepping in sooner the second it boils over.

 

Gavin comes in from a meeting or something (Geoff had heard what he'd been told and immediately forgotten) that’d caused him to miss a good portion of the morning and half his lunch, pigeon-toed and shoulders curled and looking very, very small. He picks up his bird from his desk and sticks it in his lap as he sits, then he turns to Michael.

 

“Can we play Minecraft?” he asks, twisting his fingers against the bird’s wing.

 

Michael puts down his Jersey Mike’s with a guilty look. “We already filmed it, Gav,” he says around a mouthful of sandwich.

 

“Oh,” Gavin replies in a tiny voice. Geoff pushes himself out of his desk chair and comes around to the boys in time to see Gavin’s eyes well up. “Can we play for next week?” His voice wobbles.

 

Michael looks away and scratches at his nose. “We filmed that too.”

 

Two big, fat tears roll down Gavin’s cheeks.

 

“We can play at home, Gavvers,” Geoff says. Gavin scrubs the heel of his hand against his face as the first tears disappear into the scruff on his jaw.

 

“Don’ wanna play at home,” he says thickly. “Wanna play with everyone.”

 

“Everyone will be at home,” Geoff starts, and reaches to ruffle Gavin’s hair. He gets his hand smacked away.

 

“ _ Now _ ,” Gavin demands, voice cracking on a sob. “Nobody’s doin’ anything but sitting,” he insists. Tears are coming faster and faster, and he hiccups in a breath. Michael crinkles his sandwich wrapper.

 

“We’re fucking eating, dipshit,” Michael snaps.

 

“Michael,” Geoff warns. Gavin chokes out a sob. “Gavin,” he says next. “Are you hungry?” He tries distracting from the mounting tantrum. “Tired?”

 

“No!” Gavin cries. “No, no,  _ no _ !” His voice rises in volume with each repetition.

 

“Gavin.” Geoff kneels in front of him and puts a hand on his knee. “Gav, buddy--”

 

Gavin throws his bird at Geoff’s face.

 

Geoff blinks a few times, staring at the bird that’s landed itself back in Gavin’s lap. “Okay,” he says. “Stevenson is mine for the time being.” Gavin lets out a louder sob as Geoff picks the bird up. "You'll get him back when you can be nice to him," Geoff explains carefully, making sure that Gavin is following. "We don't throw friends, Gavin. They can get hurt."

 

Something along the lines of  _ jus’ wann’ play's nofair _ comes flooding out of Gavin’s mouth.

 

“I know, bud. I know you wanna play.” Geoff puts Stevenson in his hoodie pocket, making sure the bird’s face is at least sticking out of his pocket so it can breathe for Gavin’s sake. He picks up one of Gavin’s hands--touch light in case Gavin doesn’t want it--and rubs his thumb over the boy’s knuckles. “You have to eat something first, okay? We got you a turkey cheese,” he says. Gavin shakes his head, but grips Geoff’s hand tight. “What about a nap?” Gavin shakes his head again.

 

“Stevenson,” Gavin whimpers.

 

“You threw him at me,” Geoff replies. “Remember?” Gavin sniffles wetly. A tissue appears over Geoff’s shoulder. He reaches with his free hand to take it, and then holds it out for Gavin. Gavin doesn’t move, so Geoff gently pats his face dry and wipes his nose.

 

“‘m sorry I threw him,” Gavin blubbers, fresh tears welling up and slipping out. Geoff takes the new tissue that appears over his shoulder again with an appreciative glance back at Michael, and blots these tears from Gavin’s cheekbones.

 

“I forgive you, Gav,” he says gently. “Why did you throw him?”

 

Gavin sniffles again. “I was mad,” he says. “And sad.” Geoff squeezes his hand encouragingly. “And tired.”

 

“Good job, bud. Why are you mad and sad and tired?” he presses.

 

“‘Cuz I’ve done lots this week.” Gavin scrubs at his face, then takes a third tissue Michael reaches over Geoff’s head. “And I wanted to play Minecraft with Mikey and Lil J and you and Rye and Jack.”

 

Geoff takes Stevenson out of his pocket and rests him on Gavin’s knee, holding him so he stands. “How can we work on getting that?” he asks.

 

“Um,” Gavin says. He pets over the fake fur that makes up Stevenson’s crest with the tip of a finger. “I can eat lunch,” he suggests.

 

“Or take a nap,” Geoff adds. Gavin nods.

 

“And I wait til we’re home,” he finishes glumly. His fingers close around Stevenson. Geoff lets him have the bird.

 

“If we wait until we’re home we’ll have a world we can play on any time we want,” Geoff points out. “We won’t have to wait until we’re in the office, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Gavin agrees. His tears have stopped. Now he just looks  _ tired _ . Geoff reaches up to run a hand through his hair. “Can you sit with me if I nap? Or Mikey?”

 

“I can,” Michael says gently. “Wanna hold Jason too?” It’s a weird habit the two have, bringing one stuffed animal each to work, but it helps both of them focus so nobody tries to put a stop to it. Gavin nods. Geoff hears the zip of Michael’s bag, and then a cyan Minecraft sheep is being passed over.

 

Gavin has to let go of Geoff’s hand to take Jason--Geoff thinks. Instead he tucks Stevenson under his chin and reaches for the sheep. “Jason,” he coos softly, looking at the sheep in tired wonder.

 

“Jason,” Michael repeats. Then Gavin is looking at Geoff expectantly.

 

This is less of a habit than it is a ritual the lads have cooked up; they’ve got everyone in on it. “Jason,” Geoff says. Gavin looks satisfied. “Ready for your nap? Or do you want lunch first?”

 

“Nap,” Gavin says. He maneuvers Jason to the crook of his elbow so he can take proper hold of Stevenson again and presses his face against his bird.

 

Geoff hears Michael stand behind him and set up the couch. “You’re doing a good job,” Geoff says. “Okay, bud? Today’s gonna be easy after this, and then we’ll all go home and play Minecraft. I’ll tell everyone to clear their schedules so it’s only Minecraft tonight. How’s that sound?” Gavin smiles, tiny and watery, and Geoff matches it with a smile of his own. “There’s my Gav.”

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes u just gotta play minecraft


End file.
